


All the Small Things

by inkjunket



Category: Bandom, Panic At The Disco
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-31
Updated: 2007-10-31
Packaged: 2017-10-20 02:32:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/207828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkjunket/pseuds/inkjunket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, Ryan is pretty sure that he's gay. (High school era fumbling.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Small Things

**Author's Note:**

> Jocondite asked for something pre-Panic, or early on, fumbling, history. Ergo warning, Spencer is 16 here, Ryan is 17, although I think I've messed up canon enough that they should be even younger. Written for the bandslashmania (Turning) Tricks or Treats 2007 challenge. Thanks to greendreaming and phineasjones for beta!

It starts when Spencer brings a girl to practice. Not just any girl, either – his girlfriend, Elsa. Spencer's talked about her before, and Ryan's stomach had clenched up a bit, to his surprise. He'd thought maybe it was just that he was feeling protective, or not wanting to see Spencer get hurt by anyone. Now that he's met her though, now that she's here in Spencer's basement, sitting on the yellow armchair in the corner next to the drums, watching them practice, Ryan is beginning to realize it's something more than that.

She's cute, and friendly, and nice, and Brent and Trevor seem to enjoy playing to an audience, and aren't dicking around as much as they usually do. They're playing at Brent's cousin's birthday party next week, and they need the practice, so Ryan should be grateful to her for that, but he really can't dredge up that emotion for her. Ryan just doesn't like her.

But Elsa really, really likes Spencer. As they get further into their set, not stopping so much to talk through any technical stuff, but just getting down to the ones they know well and can jam for fun, Elsa leans over the arm of the chair, a half-smile on her face as she turns her full attention on Spencer. It's so totally obvious that she wants Spencer bad. Ryan looks at her, and feels this weight in his chest that might be jealousy or want, or something harder to define, and he just wants to tell her that Spencer is his, and off-limits, and she can take her skanky ass-tight jeans and clear out, and oh crap. Ryan glances from Elsa to Spencer. Spencer is totally focused on the beat, and bites his lip like he usually does when he's concentrating. Spencer is totally and completely one of the hottest things Ryan has ever seen when he's like this, and Ryan doesn't know what is wrong with him or what he's thinking about. Spencer looks up briefly at Elsa, and grins, and she practically arches off the chair like a cat. Then Spencer turns and gives Ryan a funny look, and Ryan realizes he's completely missed his intro.

"Sorry." He shifts the guitar to hide his growing hard-on. What the fuck? "Start over." Trevor and Brent groan. Spencer twirls his sticks and gives Elsa a little adorable smile.

Ryan hates Elsa.

*

After the third practice Elsa comes to, Spencer invites them all upstairs to watch the Daily Show and eat Oreos. Trevor and Brent leave, because they know a date when they see one, but Ryan joins them, which probably makes him kind of a dick.

During the commercial, Spencer goes to the bathroom. Ryan and Elsa sit in awkward silence for a minute before Elsa turns to him.

"You guys are pretty good," she offers.

"Thanks," Ryan says, and he can't help that it comes out sounding pissy. He stares straight ahead at the TV.

"I mean." She shifts on the couch. "Those covers are really good – were they all Blink-182?"

"No."

She makes a little breathy sound, kind of annoyed. "Look, do you have a problem with me?"

Ryan turns to look at her, makes a smile. He's pretty sure it's not a very nice smile. "No, no problem. It's nice that Spencer has a groupie now."

Her cheeks turn red and she crosses her arms over her chest. "I'm not his groupie."

"Oh – just a general band slut, then?" He probably should stop the words from coming out of his mouth, but he doesn't really want to. It feels good to say them.

"You're a total asshole. What's wrong with you?"

Ryan doesn't really have an answer for that.

Elsa's glaring at him with death-ray eyes by the time Spencer gets back. Spencer raises an eyebrow in silent question to Ryan, but Ryan just ducks his head, feels his face flame up, and passes the Oreos off to Spencer before making a break for the door. The night air is cool on his face as he bikes back to his house, and the rhythm of the shifting gears says, "dumbfuck, you're a dumbfuck, a dumbfuck."

*

Ryan lets Spencer in, and they make their way down the hall back to Ryan's room.

"Is your dad –" Spencer doesn't finish the question.

"Out," Ryan says, "he'll probably be out late." It's a Thursday, and Thursday nights are the worst, because that's pay day, and when you live outside of Vegas and have some money in your pocket, drinking and gambling make a nice pair. Nice and mean, in Ryan's dad's case.

"You can come over," Spencer says.

"Yeah, maybe later." It's only 5:30 now, not anywhere near late enough for his dad to be getting home. Ryan pushes his desk chair out of the way and sits down on his bed, reaching across the narrow space to tilt the computer monitor towards him. He pulls up iTunes to find the song he wanted to play for Spencer, who sits down beside him. This is how they always sit together in Ryan's room, only Ryan's whole body seems to be trying to tell him that it's something different now, the way that he feels heat rush up his neck.

"How's Elsa?" he asks, and it comes out sharper than he wanted it to.

"We broke up."

Ryan carefully continues to scroll through his playlist. He can't see Spencer's face at this angle, but he doesn't sound too upset about it. "Sorry, man," Ryan offers. His leg touches Spencer's for a second and he twitches. He hopes Spencer doesn't notice.

"It's okay," Spencer says. "She wasn't that great after all." He pauses. "She said you were kind of a douche." Ryan feels his heart stop a little. "So I said maybe she was a douche." There's a bit of a smile in Spencer's voice now. "Then she said I was definitely a douche, and I think that's when we were officially broken up." Ryan looks back at him, raising an eyebrow, and Spencer throws him a little self-deprecating grin.

"I kind of was a douche to her," Ryan admits, and stuffs his hands in his pockets, because he really, really doesn't want to say why.

"You kind of were, but hey, you're you." Spencer flips his hair out of his face and looks right at Ryan. "I wouldn't have it any other way." He picks up his water bottle and raises it to Ryan. "To other fish in the sea."

Ryan snags his own bottle and knocks it against Spencer's. "To fish." He takes a drink.

"She was a great kisser, though," Spencer sighs, and Ryan chokes.

*

So, Ryan is pretty sure that he's gay. Sure, he's kissed a few girls. It was good, it was fine, but it was enough for him to figure out for sure that it wasn't what he was interested in. He doesn't have any friends at school to tell this to, though. The only person he'd want to tell is Spencer, really, and he thinks that might be weird now.

The kids at his school all kind of suck anyway; they're all conformists, or too scared to do anything new or different. Ryan's not well-liked at school, doesn't really have any close friends there. He keeps to himself, and avoids their stupid cliques, and keeps looking straight ahead when they mouth "fag" at him. He hasn't talked to anyone about being gay, hasn't done anything about it, so it's not that the dumbasses at school actually have anything on him – they just smell blood in the water. If there's anyone else who's gay at his school, he's sure they'd never divulge that information willingly, unless they enjoy getting stuffed in lockers or whatever it is the jocks do to the kids they catch. They've never caught Ryan. He can thank his dad for those reflexes.

He's glad that Spencer doesn't go to his school, or Brent, or Trevor; glad that they don't see it, and glad that he has this other place to come to, a kind of haven, though he'd never tell the other guys that. Maybe Spencer.

*

Spencer's family goes out for chicken a la king and bowling night, which Ryan is kind of sad to miss, but there's a Night of the Living Dead / Dawn of the Dead / Day of the Dead marathon on in honor of Halloween coming up, and there is no way he and Spencer are missing that. They settle onto the couch, and with the zombies, and the hot pizza, and Spencer's leg curled up so it's just touching his, Ryan thinks that maybe this is heaven. He tries not to think about how much he likes Spencer's leg where it is. Except that maybe twenty minutes in, Spencer's breath hitches at a scary moment, and Ryan realizes that his hand has instinctively curled over Spencer's. He is holding Spencer's hand. And somehow, it doesn't feel wrong, it just makes sense, and that is terrifying.

Then Spencer turns toward him, and says, "what?" but his voice is soft and breathy, and that's what makes Ryan lean over, closer, until his lips press up against Spencer's. They both sort of freeze. Ryan can feel every millimeter of where he's touching Spencer, Spencer's breath warm through his half-open lips, Spencer's shoulder wedged under Ryan's arm, the fabric of his t-shirt soft on Ryan's skin.

Then Ryan's heart skitters back into gear, and his brain wakes up to what he's just done, and oh my God, oh God, he kissed Spencer. He pulls back, feeling his face burning, and says, "sorry, sorry," scrambling to put some distance between them. He wishes the couch would open up and swallow him whole right now.

"No, it's okay," Spencer says, and then they sit there for a minute, totally silent, with the movie still going in the background. It's getting to a good bit, a real zombie march complete with groaning and shuffling and everything. Ryan thinks maybe this moment will somehow pass without them ever having to talk about it again, ever, and then Spencer says, "Hey. It's okay."

Ryan knows that tone; it's not a question, but it's an opening, a chance for Ryan to say something that'll explain things. This is Spencer; when has he ever not talked about something big, something important like this, with Spencer?

"I think I'm kind of. Gay." He keeps his eyes carefully trained on the TV.

"Kind of." Spencer says back, mildly. If Ryan didn't know him so well, he'd miss the slightly mocking tone.

"Okay, um." He takes a deep breath. He can say it. "Yeah, I'm. I'm gay." It feels really loud when he says it, like a lyric that doesn't fit, but just floats there, needing a rewrite. He wants to take it back and be able to laugh it off, but he can't.

"Okay," Spencer says, after a pause, and looks over at Ryan with an expression he can't read. "That's okay. It's cool, man."

Ryan snorts. "Oh, it's cool now, is it?"

"Yeah, it's totally the new thing," Spencer says, "being gay. You're so five minutes ago now."

"Shut up. Watch the movie," Ryan says, but he feels a small smile on his face now, feels the burning embarrassment lessening a little. He shoves at Spencer lightly, and Spencer stiffens, then shoves back, and Ryan determinedly turns back to the movie, and doesn't think about anything at all.

They sit in silence through the rest of the first movie, and Ryan still kind of wants to die, but somehow, between the second and third movie, Spencer gets up to make popcorn, and Spencer's mom comes home with leftover chicken a la king, and Spencer's sisters have to be rousted from behind the couch to keep them from being scarred for life by overexposure to zombies at a young age. Somehow, somewhere in all that he's laughing like nothing happened earlier, and Spencer is too, and Spencer looks at him, and he really is okay, it's cool.

*

When Ryan was thirteen, he'd strap his Harmony to his back and his amp to the pannier on the back of his bike and pedal over to Spencer's house. He'd let himself in after a cursory knock which no one ever bothered to answer any more, and with a wave to whichever sister was on the living room couch watching TV, or at the dining room table doing homework, he'd haul his gear downstairs to the basement. Spencer would already be down there, trying something out on his drums, and they'd sit together and go over the music, Blink-182 mostly, sometimes other stuff, and back then, well, they hadn't sounded great or anything, but it had been awesome.

Now they still do the same thing, even though Ryan has his license and can sometimes borrow the car when his dad's having a good day. Spencer's house is so close, though, that it's not really worth it. He usually just leaves the amp at Spencer's anyway now, and practices on his acoustic at home. They get together without Trevor and Brent most days. Not that there's anything wrong with Trevor and Brent, just that this is how they've always done it; Spencer and Ryan figuring out the songs, getting ready to show the other two the chords, the fingering, the beat.

Today when he gets there, Spencer's got a CD cued. "I figured out that beat in 'What's My Age Again,'" is how he greets Ryan, just like everything's normal, just like this isn't the first time they've practiced together since Ryan kissed him. He plays the hard drum from the middle, pauses the disc, then moves to his kit and hammers out a line that sounds perfect, even a bit of variation on the original that kicks it up a notch. Ryan finds himself moving forward to the yellow armchair, picking up the sheet with the parts on it and scribbling in the drum notation.

"Yeah, that's totally it, look," Ryan says, and Spencer perches on the arm of the chair and looks over his shoulder.

"Nice," Spencer says, and Ryan is suddenly really aware of Spencer's hip pressed up against his side. Ryan looks up at Spencer, and Spencer's lips are parted, and his hair is in his face. Ryan wants to shift away, shift back, or else lean in and do something; but he forces himself to remain completely still.

"Hey," Spencer says, and it's another strange tone of voice, an opening, like it means something. Ryan looks up at him again, and Spencer leans down, and closes his eyes, and put his lips on Ryan's mouth.

Ryan feels his breathing stop in shock, but then his lips mash up against Spencer's, and Spencer's tongue slides along Ryan's mouth until he opens it, and then Spencer's tongue is slipping next to Ryan's. Ryan pulls back, because he thinks he must be missing something, misunderstanding something, but Spencer's lips follow his, and okay, that's pretty clear. Ryan's tongue feels awkward as he tentatively swipes at Spencer's lip with it, and slides it against Spencer's tongue. Spencer's mouth tastes kind of good, like a cookie or something. Ryan thinks he's probably not very good at kissing, because he hasn't really done all that much of it, but this definitely feels better than the other times he's tried it. Then Spencer leans closer in and kind of bites at Ryan's lip in response and wow, Spencer is a really good kisser. Ryan leans back a little and lets Spencer kiss him again.

He puts a hand to Spencer's hip, and another to Spencer's waist where his t-shirt meets his belt, and then Spencer is twisting around on the arm of the chair, somehow keeping their mouths still locked on to each other, although their teeth knock together briefly. Spencer is now basically sitting in Ryan's lap, and his body says yes and arches up of its own accord into Spencer's thigh, which is now pressing down against Ryan's dick.

Ryan lifts a hand to reach across Spencer's lap, and somehow his hand comes into contact with Spencer's dick through his jeans. Spencer hisses. Ryan jerks his hand back, but Spencer twists again so that his thigh presses harder against Ryan's dick, and he pushes his hips up a little against his hand. Ryan doesn't really know what he's doing, but somehow, his hands find their way to Spencer's belt. He can feel Spencer's dick, hard through his jeans. Spencer says something like "oh," into Ryan's mouth, and Ryan fumbles with Spencer's belt because it seems like the right thing to do, like the only thing he can do, he has to do. He undoes the clasp but just can't get the button on Spencer's jeans.

"Sorry, I mean –" he says, and Spencer makes a hesitant sound, like he's not sure he should do it, but then he slowly unbuttons his jeans himself. Ryan looks up at him. "Is this, I mean, can I –" Ryan asks. His voice comes out raspy and totally unsure.

Spencer nods.

Okay then. Ryan pulls on the zipper. Spencer lets out another little gasp, and mouths Ryan's jaw haphazardly. Ryan breathes for a second, then puts his hand on Spencer's waist and dips his fingers below the waistband to Spencer's boxers. Spencer lets out a little shuddering breath, and Ryan watches him as his hand reaches hair, then Spencer's dick, and yeah, his hand is on Spencer's dick. Ryan feels hot all over, and his hands are shaking a little. Spencer's face is flushed, his eyes are closed, and he's biting his lip with that concentrating look, like he's entirely focused on what Ryan's hands are doing.

Then Spencer's hands settle on the button to Ryan's jeans, and Ryan's vision whites out for a second, as Spencer manages to unzip him much more smoothly and wraps a hand around Ryan's dick.

"Oh fuck," he hears, and realizes it's his own voice when Spencer echoes back, "Fuck." Ryan curls his hand around Spencer's dick, moves it, trying to make the rhythm good, but the angle is so strange. Then Spencer moves his hand on Ryan, and licks a stripe up Ryan's neck at the same time, and Ryan is coming, just like that, embarrassingly fast, hot and wet. He feels his face burning, and he chokes out, "Sorry, sorry –" but then he feels wetness on his hand, and he looks down, and Spencer has come too, all over Ryan's hand and shirt, and there's a total mess, and this is totally ridiculous and oh my God, he just had, like, sex, somehow, with Spencer.

Spencer lets out a short cut-off laugh. Ryan looks up, really hoping half the things he's thinking aren't written all over his face. Spencer gives him a rueful little smile.

"That's really kind of messy," he says. "I totally got your shirt." His cheeks are flushed, for all that he sounds relaxed about it, and his ears are turning bright red too. Ryan feels a little better.

"Sorry," he croaks again. "I got your… everything," he finishes lamely. He takes his hand – the hand that was on Spencer's dick, oh my God, oh holy fuck – and wipes it on his t-shirt. Then he fiddles with the shirt to kind of cover himself up, determined not to look back up at Spencer.

Spencer jumps up and stuffs himself back into his jeans, doing up the belt. "Yeah, so. I'll get you a clean one of mine." He shoves his hair out of his eyes and shoots Ryan an unreadable look before running up the stairs.

Ryan takes off his shirt – Spencer's right, it's totally a lost cause – crushes it into a tight ball, and stuffs it into his bag. Then he paces, arms curled around himself, and spends the next three minutes quietly panicking.

The doorbell rings to announce Trevor and Brent's arrival. They stomp down the stairs while Ryan stands there and really, really wishes he had a shirt.

"Hey, guys, what's up?" he asks them, trying to look comfortable.

"What's up with your shirt?" Brent asks.

"Spilled stuff on it." He feels himself blushing, and tries not to.

Spencer returns then with a shirt – his Modest Mouse one – and holds it out to Ryan, meeting his eyes briefly before glancing down at Ryan's chest and then away, clearing his throat to say hi to Brent and Trevor. He picks up his sticks and sits at his kit. The tips of his ears are red. Ryan puts the shirt on.

Practice goes over like usual, except that Ryan tries really hard not to look at Spencer because he thinks he might just pass out from embarrassment. Trevor and Brent don't seem to notice anything unusual. They play around with a new Counting Crows song, and Ryan directs all his comments about percussion to the wall behind Spencer's head. They finish early because Trevor has some family night thing. Ryan moves very slowly putting his guitar away, because he has to stay and say something to Spencer, but his brain just isn't working right; he can't figure out what he's supposed to say at all.

Trevor heads out, then Brent. Then Spencer's standing next to Ryan.

"Hey," he says, and Ryan has to look at him.

Spencer licks his lips once, twice, then takes a deep breath, and lets it out.

"So," he says, aiming the word carefully at Ryan's guitar case, "I should tell you." He looks around the room, and crosses his arms, and looks back at the guitar case. "What I want to say is that I think I might be kind of gay too."

"Kind of?" Ryan asks, but there's this light, good feeling spreading out under his breastbone, like it's coming from the t-shirt.

"Okay, so maybe I'm bi, whatever. But you know, maybe –" Spencer looks up at Ryan, and whatever he sees on Ryan's face must be reassuring because he breaks into a hesitant grin, "— maybe I'm gay for you?"

"Yeah?" Ryan asks. "That's cool." But he grins back, probably looking like a total idiot because yeah, it's cool.

"Okay," Spencer says, and gives a little nod, like something's settled. And actually, it kind of is.

Ryan shoves his hands in his pockets and the two of them stand there for a minute, grinning a little at the floor, and then they go upstairs to watch TV. They sit next to each other on the couch, and Ryan doesn't twitch when Spencer's leg touches his. Spencer grins at him at the funny bits, and yeah, it's totally cool.


End file.
